A Piece of Candy
A friend of mine who lives in town, with whom I frequently speak but rarely see (he works phones for a living), called me up Friday night and wanted to hang out. He was working the 3-to-11 shift and wanted to hit a leather and Levi, alternative kind of bar for a drink afterwards. H particularly likes the blue collar, grunge look. He is a “ho buddy” of mine, or should I say a “ho sister”: we tell each other our whoring stories, and sometimes go whoring around together – like Friday night.
We had a few drinks and chatted with a few people, but the place was pretty dead. However, after having a drink or two, I wanted a drink or two more, and H wanted to hang out. I did as well; now that my liver is better and I have started drinking on occasion, it seems like when I drink I really want to get a nice buzz on. I am still a light-weight, but at the same time if I drink my drinks slowly and keep to around 4-5 over the entire day or evening or night, beaching or hanging out or clubbing, I’m okay. We ended up going to two nearby bars that were within a block or two of the first one.
H was giggly but is extremely judicious – even sober he drives like an old lady, as they say –. The last bar was the hoiest, and he was ready to go not too long after we arrived. I think he had already sucked a few dicks in the bathroom, so he drove home to the distant suburb where he lives. I ran into a fuck buddy of sorts there, one who supposedly has a mini-crush on me. At the bar he seemed uncomfortable around me. Or maybe it was me around him. Or maybe it was both of us. We talked and interacted a little bit, but he was also looking around a lot and then went off to circulate a couple of times without saying anything to me. I eventually did the same. In other words we didn’t ignore one another but we didn’t make a point to be with each other in the bar either. At the end of the night I’m thinking he has left the bar but then I spot him in the lower room, the room closest to the door. He was too far away for us to acknowledge one another as I leave. I hang out in front, wondering if he’ll come out or if I should wait to say goodbye.
On my way out, a cute guy near the door checked me out. He came out of the bar fairly quickly behind me, stood in the middle of the side street, stared at me, gave me a “what are you waiting for?” type of look when I hesitated, and off with him I went. He pretty quickly asked if we were going to his place or mine. He was a young kid (25) and I was impressed with his openness and directness, his confidence. From what I understood, we lived on the exact same street but I lived much closer to where we were. He was drunker than I initially realized. I walked – I had had four drinks over the course of three hours – and he walked and stumbled a little alongside me. At least everyone we passed as we walked the seedy streets toward home could see that one of us was sober.
We tried to have sex but he was too drunk, so we just went to sleep. I had planned to leave my apartment the next day at noon and woke up around 9. J was coming over to get the rest of his things, and to take back as well some things he had given me long ago but decided he wanted back or that I didn’t sufficiently use or appreciate and therefore didn’t deserve, and I didn’t want to be home. I woke C up at 10:30. He was as pleasant and agreeable in the morning as he had been at night. He got up, got dressed and got his things together to leave. I saw him making the bed, and told him that he didn’t have to do that. He said that his mother would kill him if he didn’t. It turned out he was Native American, from Arizona. We didn’t kiss goodbye and we didn’t exchange numbers.
Later I realize that my fuck buddy from the bar could easily have driven right by us as we walked home. Of course, he could have seen us anywhere along our route, as he had a car and might have been going anywhere afterwards – or might have been trying to find me, even. I haven’t heard from him since, although I thought about texting him yesterday. I guess I haven’t figured out yet what to say.
When I got in bed that night, I found a piece of candy tucked between the sheets. That was such a sweet thing to do. Those are the kinds of boys I usually meet.
